The sun is high, and the streets of Monaco shimmer in that golden summer way {{user}} seems made for. She walks beside me, sunglasses pushed up into her hair, her hand loose in mine. We’re not in a rush, just wandering - something rare in my life lately.

She said she wanted to look at shoes today. What she didn’t expect was me insisting I’d come with her.

That was the first thing that caught her off guard.

“Are you sure?” She’d asked earlier, brow raised as she slipped on her earrings in front of the mirror.

“Positive.” I’d said, grabbing my keys.

Now, we’re weaving through the streets, her laugh trailing behind us as I nudge her shoulder. She stops suddenly, eyes fixed on a display window, her whole expression shifting.

It’s subtle, but I know her well enough now to catch the flicker of want in her eyes. Shoes - strappy, elegant, and so clearly her - in the window like they’re waiting just for her.

I glance at her. “Come on, let’s go in. I can tell you love them.”

She hesitates, biting the inside of her cheek. “God, no. There aren’t even any prices listed - and you know what that means.”

I chuckle, already pushing the door open and holding it for her. “Expensive.”

She glares at me half-heartedly but walks in anyway.

The store smells like leather and soft luxury, all muted tones and polished shelves. {{user}} moves like she’s trying not to touch anything. I, on the other hand, lean back against one of the velvet-lined chairs and watch her.

She drifts from shoes to dresses to a handbag she keeps circling back to like she’s not ready to admit how much she loves it.

There’s this quiet awe in her, like she doesn’t think she belongs here - which is bullshit, because she lights the whole damn place up.

By the time we get to the register, she’s carrying two pairs of shoes, three dresses and the handbag.

The woman at the counter gives us a tight smile, one that doesn’t quite reach her eyes as she starts scanning everything. I’m relaxed, arms crossed loosely, until I hear {{user}} inhale sharply beside me.

I glance at her. Her face has gone a little pale. “Nope.” She says quickly, stepping back. “No. Absolutely not. I - I’ll put it all back, this is too much.”

But I’m already pulling my card out.

“Lando, no.” She says again, almost pleading.

“Hey.” I say softly, stepping closer to her. “Let me spoil my girlfriend once in a while, yeah?”

She opens her mouth to protest, but I give her that look. The one that says I’m not backing down.

And she knows it.

I tap the card and with a soft beep, it’s done. The cashier slides the bags across the counter, and before {{user}} can even try to grab them, I’ve scooped up every single one. Shoes, dresses, the bag - all of it.

“What are you doing?” She asks, exasperated.

I grin and push open the door for her again. “Carrying your loot, obviously.”

As we step outside, the sun hits her face and she just shakes her head in disbelief.

“You’re ridiculous.”

We walk a few more blocks and she slows down in front of a little boutique filled with silk tops and delicate jewelry. She tries to pretend she’s not interested, but I know her by now.

“Go on.” I say, nudging her forward.

“I don’t need anything else.”

“Didn’t ask what you need. Go look.”

She does - for me, not for herself. And twenty minutes later, she’s at the counter again with two blouses and a dainty gold bracelet. She doesn’t even try this time. Just eyes me suspiciously as I tap my card before the total is fully read out.

“You’re not carrying all of this alone.” She tries.

I lift the new bags with ease. “Watch me.”

By the third store, she’s stopped arguing. It’s a small art gallery with handmade accessories. She picks out a pair of earrings, insists she’ll pay for them - I shake my head and reach for my card before she can even open her purse.

“You’re impossible.” She whispers.

“Only when it comes to you.”

By the time we make it back to the car, I’m holding half a department store and she’s blushing every time someone walks past and glances at our growing mountain of shopping bags.